The sound of the suicide drone killing the sniper startled the gang members barricaded at the sixth-floor stairwell entrance.
They had somehow brought up a large pile of sandbags and stacked them on the corridor floor. Crouching behind this makeshift fortification, they had a light machine gun poised on either side. One of them even had a long, thick Individual Rocket Tube at his feet, apparently loaded and ready to fire.
They were truly panicked. Radio signals from their walkie-talkies were disappearing one after another, silently, as if an invisible, intangible black hole was moving through the lower floors, engulfing every living soul that stepped into it.
Explosions could still be heard from the floors above, yet they had blocked every entrance to the sixth floor and hadn't seen anyone come up. Could there be people upstairs too?
